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Tuesday, July 29, 2014

A foggy morning at Whitestone Hill, N.D. One stone is visible in the foreground, the remaining stones in this circle are nearly covered up by years of soil and grass.

Tipi Rings, Stone Circles

Features Attributed To Trickster

Edited by Dakota Wind

GREAT PLAINS, N.D. – My good
friend Aaron Barth, proprietor of The Edge Of The Village, recently asked me about stone
circles, a feature regularly found on the Great Plains of North America.

In Memoir 19 of the Plains
Anthropologist (1982), is a collection of papers about the “tipi ring” feature.
Within those pages is an account of an archaeological survey of a tipi ring
site; the tipi ring site, at least this one, featured a cache pit which seems
to indicate to the writer to that people intended to return. I don’t believe that's entirely accurate. Another
possibility is that food or other items were left as offerings to a higher power
when someone long ago prayed there.

"...tipis were staked to the ground with pegs, not stones."One thing for certain is that tipis were staked to the ground with pegs, not stones.

Next follows an edited excerpt
from Colonel Alfred Welch’s papers about stone circles (references to locations
have been removed). Welch had interviewed several people from the Standing Rock
Sioux Indian Reservation and the Fort Berthold Indian Reservation to create
this wonderful summation of stone circles (not tipi rings):

All through the Missouri
river country may be found certain systemically formed “Stone Rings or
Circles.” These round patterns, or mosaics, are formed by stones placed
side by side, describing a more or less well-formed circle.

They are of various
diameters, the largest which we have measured being forty feet across and the
smallest twelve feet across. Some of these circles are formed with a
single line of stones, others have two well-defined circles, one within the
other, and a few have been found with three or more lines of stone laid closely
together, forming a “circle” which was wide like a paved walk.

"...they are rocks which have been used to hold the bottom of the lodges from being flapped by the wind."

The commonly accepted
version of the farmers upon whose lands these are to be found is that they are
rocks which have been used to hold the bottom of the lodges from being flapped
by the wind.

This idea, however, is
discarded for the rings, or circles, are to be found where lodges would not
have been erected, in all probability. An examination of…many others
[stone circles] confirms us in the belief that they are ceremonial
places.

The regularity of the
position of the stones indicates that they were not used as weights for tipi
edges, for stones used for that purpose would have been rolled out of line when
breaking camp, and they are too heavy for that purpose.

Lodges would certainly not
have been put up in those particular locations during the winter time and, if
they were there during the summer, the complete circumference of the lodge
would not have been weighted down, but would have been left free to open to the
side from which the cool winds blew. No half circles have been found. There is
generally no wood readily available, and only sometimes the stone circles are
located conveniently close to water.

They are not of glacial
formation, as the great number of them and their regularity as to shape and
entrance clearly indicates the work of human hands. Entrances are a space
of some two or three feet across, entirely free from stone, and in most cases
is in the direct eastern part of the circle, or nearly so, and shows a positive
purpose or design. In the center of circles a larger stone is sometimes found,
which also indicates a definite purpose.

The stones of the circles
are, in many cases, almost covered with the accumulation of wind-blown dust and
sand. A few have been seen, where no stones were seen at all, the only
indication of the formation being by the grass-free spot over the rocks. The
supposition is that they are of great age and the natives claim that they were
here when they came into the country.

"Any peculiar form of rock is supposed to have been made by Iŋktómi, even the flint arrowheads were made by him."

Conversations with the
Dakȟóta and Lakȟóta regarding them nearly always end with the remark that “Iŋktómi
made them.” Among the Dakȟóta and Lakȟóta, Iŋktómi, the Spider or
Trickster, was the wisest creature and possessed of wonderful powers of changing
himself into any other form he desired. Great feats of strength are also
ascribed to him. Any peculiar form of rock is supposed to have been made
by Iŋktómi, even the flint arrowheads were made by him.

The Mandan, Hidatsa and
Arikara do not claim to have built these rings and, in fact, say that they did
not construct them but that they were made by some people who were here before
any of their people came into this country. The entrances all being
toward the east, the fact that they appear to have been constructed both on
high hills and low vales, the appearance of a stone altar in the middle of so
many of them – are significant and of interest to all students of “ancient
mysteries” and “land marks.”

Friday, July 25, 2014

Killdeer Mountain at sunset. Photo by Dakota Wind.'Overlooked' History: Killdeer Mountain Battle Felt 150 years LaterBy Nadya Faulx, for The Dickinson PressKILLDEER, N.D. - Monday marks 150 years since the battle at Killdeer Mountain, an event that shaped North Dakota in ways felt more than a century later.

As one of the western-most Civil War-era battles, the Killdeer Mountain Battle was “a turning point in Dakota history,” said writer Jennifer Strange, co-coordinator of a commemoration event beginning at 9 a.m. Saturday at the Dunn County Historical Society and Museum, where she also sits on the board.

But for many outside of the state — even inside the state — the conflict between the U.S. military and a gathering of Teton, Yanktonai and Dakota Indians doesn’t carry the same weight as other Civil War-era battles like Gettysburg or Antietam.

“It’s not much taught about, or, for that matter, discussed,” said Tom Isern, a North Dakota State University professor of history. “Here within North Dakota, there’s just a little postage stamp of a historic site. Hardly anybody goes there.

“It’s a very much neglected and overlooked chapter in history,” he said.

Some state historians say they hope that by commemorating the events of 1864, it will bring renewed attention to their impact on the state, particularly on Native American communities.

“It’s a good time to reflect on this,” said Diane Rogness, historic sites manager with the State Historical Society of North Dakota.

The impact of the two-day battle in 1864 cannot be understated, she added.

“It’s very significant,” she said. “It changed the way of life for the Sioux and for the settlement of Dakota territory. It changed the world. It changed history.”

The Killdeer Mountain conflict as portrayed by C.L. Boeckmann.Remembering The BattleShe and several others — including United Tribes Technical College instructor of Native Studies Dakota Good House and Standing Rock Sioux tribal historian Ladonna Brave Bull Allard — will speak at the Dunn County museum Saturday on a panel discussing the significance of the battle, which saw General Alfred Sully and 2,200 troops launch an attack on an estimated 1,600 Indians who had gathered at the sacred site of Killdeer Mountain.

Anywhere from 31 to 100 Indians were killed in the conflict, depending on whose historical account you read, as well as two U.S. soldiers. Troops targeted women, children and other non-combatants, even returning to burn down lodges and buffalo meat, and shoot abandoned dogs and horses, according to historians.

The bloody assault was and is regarded as a punitive campaign for the Dakota War of 1862, in which Sully and General Henry Sibley sent forces in to quell an uprising of Dakota Indians in Minnesota angered over late payments from the U.S. for their land. Sully and his men either didn’t know or didn’t care that most of the Indian tribes at Killdeer Mountain two years later had no involvement with the Dakota War, historians said.

Though Killdeer Mountain was theoretically punishment for the hostilities in Minnesota, it was beyond any provocation that took place in Minnesota, Isern said.

“This was about the fate of North Dakota territory,” he said.

Somewhat indirectly, the Battle of Killdeer Mountain opened the door for western railroad expansion, pushed many Native Americans onto reservations, and effectively shaped North Dakota 25 years before the territory was even a state.

Killdeer Mountain from the south side looking north. Photo by Dakota Wind.A New Focus For An Old BattlefieldHistorians and educators have put a renewed focus on Killdeer Mountain in recent years, both because of the lead up to the 150th anniversary of the battle, and because of the encroachment of the energy industry on the now-private land on which the battle took place.

New information is being discovered all the time, mostly in the form of U.S. military correspondence and documents, said Isern, but the American Indian perspective is often left out of the story.

More than a century later, the Native narrative that has been passed down orally for two generations or more is starting to help shape modern understanding of the conflict.

Good House said he has been meeting with tribal elders — many whose grandparents witnessed the conflict — who have continued to share the story of Killdeer Mountain with their own children and grandchildren.

“The most important thing is that we’re talking about it and we remember it so another generation or two don’t go by and we forget about it,” he said.

The State Historical Society of North Dakota could, in the future, update their North Dakota studies curriculum to included the American Indian perspective of not only Killdeer Mountain, but of other conflicts across the prairie between the U.S. military and Native Americans, he said.

Though the Civil War-era battles “did nothing but shape anti-American sentiment” among Native American tribes, by continuing to share the story in oral tradition, “I feel like there’s a burden that’s lifted,” Good House said.

“When we talk about history or significant sites or conflicts where terrible things happened, we need to remember those things happened,” he said. “But those things didn’t happen to us today or yesterday or just last year.”

Strange said the goal of Saturday’s event — featuring storytelling, a bison roast and a writing workshop — is to be “inclusive, educational and respectful of all cultures.”

The spiritual significance of Killdeer Mountain, where for years separate bands of Sioux Indians would gather, often for coming-of-age vision quests for young males, lends an added element to the battle that took place there.

A narrative is still taking shape of what happened at Killdeer Mountain 150 years ago, and what it means for North Dakota today.

“In some ways it’s not as climactic, I don’t think, as some have made it out to be,” Isern said, “but in other ways, it’s more so.

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Left Behind To Pursue PoliticsBy Dakota WindBADLANDS, N.D. - On November 6, 1934, an Arikara named Sand Hill Crane (a former US Scout too) gave an interview to Colonel Alfred Welch about Theodore Roosevelt and his two native wives. Here's what he said:“Yes, I know about Roosevelt and the Gros Ventre [Hidatsa] woman he took. He got her. That was the way we did it then. He gave some horses for her. Her name was Brown Head. She was Hidatsa. She’s dead now," said Sand Hill Crane. After Roosevelt left Brown Head, she became the wife of Foolish Woman, a member of the Hidatsa and Sand Hill Crane's cousin, but shortly after their marriage, Brown Head died.

Then Sand Hill Crane went on to explain, “He got another one. Her name was See The Woman. She was one-half French and one-half Hidatsa. She’s alive yet up at Shell Creek. Yes, I knew him well. He was all right. When he went away he gave the women some horses and things." After Roosevelt's convalescent stay in the Badlands, he returned to the east and entered the political arena. Of Roosevelt's relationship with the two women, Sand Hill Crane shared this, "So he went away. Then he became a big man. We never said anything about these women to anyone. That’s the way the white men did then in the country."

Roosevelt believed that the American Indians had no claim to the land, and had no desire to hold property. It is evident too, that he didn't think his marriages to Brown Head and See The Woman were valid either, as he left them behind when he sufficiently recovered from the loss of his wife, Alice Lee Roosevelt, and his mother, Mittie Roosevelt.

Thursday, July 10, 2014

A painting of the Killdeer Mountain Conflict of 1864 by Carl Boeckman.

General
Sully’s 1864 Punitive Campaign

Conflicts In Dakota Territory

By Dakota Wind

KILLDEER, N.D. – “Four Horns was shot in the Killdeer Battle between Sioux and General
Sully’s troops…some time after the fight, his daughter cut out the lead bullet,”
One Bull said to Colonel Alfred Welch on hot July day in 1934 at Little Eagle,
S.D. “The report [that] the soldiers killed hundreds of Indian dogs is untrue,”
said One Bull, “because Indian dogs, half wild creatures, would follow the
Indians or run away long before soldiers would come up within range.[i]

The Killdeer Mountain
conflict occurred on July 28, 1864. Sully was under orders to punish the Sioux
in another campaign following the September, 1863 massacre of Dakȟóta and
Lakȟóta peoples at Pa ÍpuzA Napé Wakpána
(Dry Bone Hill Creek), Whitestone Hill.[ii]

The Lakȟóta and Dakȟóta knew
Killdeer Mountain as Taȟčá Wakútepi (Where They Hunt/Kill Deer), Killdeer. The
hunting there was good and dependable, and the people came there regularly, not
just to hunt but to pray as well. The plateau rises above the prairie steppe
allowing for a fantastic view of the landscape, and open sky for those who came
to pray.

A hand-tinted photo of Matȟó Watȟákpe by Frank Fiske.

Matȟó Watȟákpe (Charging Bear; John
Grass), led the Sihásapa (Black Sole Moccasin; Blackfeet Lakȟóta) on the
defensive at Killdeer. The Sihásapa had nothing to do with the 1862 Minnesota
Dakota Conflict. “In this surprise attack the Indians lost everything… soldiers
destroyed tons of food, etc.,” Matȟó Watȟákpe told Welch, and added
that great suffering followed the fight and hatred against the whites
grew.[iii]

The Lakȟóta and Dakȟóta saw
General Sully’s approach from miles away, his march put a great cloud of dust
into the sky. Sully formed his command in to a large one mile square, and under
his command was a detachment of Winnebago U.S. Indian Scouts, traditional
enemies of the Očhéthi Šakówiŋ (Seven Council Fires; Great Sioux Nation). A war
party of thirty warriors had tussled with the Winnebago two days before Sully’s
arrival.

In Robert Larson's take on the Killdeer Mountain conflict, the Teton are overconfident and Inkpaduta was the chief who organized the defense against Sully.

Historian Robert Larson
describes July 28, 1864, nearly perfectly, “…Sully’s five mile march to reach
the large Sioux village was a tense and uncomfortable one. Even though it was
morning, the day would be hot and dry; the tense summer heat had already
thinned the grass and muddied the water holes. On every hill along the valley
at the south end of the village were clusters of mounted warriors.”[iv]

The Dakȟóta under ĺŋkpaduta
(Scarlet Point) had been engaged with soldiers since the Minnesota Dakota
Conflict of 1862. They had fled west towards Spirit Lake when General Sully and
his command caught up to them at Big Mound. The Huŋkphápȟa Lakȟóta under Phizí
(Gall) had crossed the Mníšoše (Missouri River) in search of game; the heat and
drought had driven game from the traditional their hunting grounds. Sibley’s
arrival and pursuit of the Dakȟóta and Lakȟóta towards the Mníšoše marked the
first U.S. martial contact against the Huŋkphápȟa.

Tačháŋȟpi Lúta (Red Tomahawk),
infamously known for his part in Sitting Bull’s death years later, recalled the
Sibley Campaign, “There was a shallow lake south of the hills and about where
Dawson now stands. That was fine buffalo country. The buffalo would get into
this lake and mire down so they could not get out. We went there that time to
drive them into the lake and get meat and hides. While we were there the
Santees came along.”

Tačháŋȟpi Lúta then referred
to the ĺsaŋyathi (Santee) as “hostile,” but that the Huŋkphápȟa camped with
them and joined together in the hunt. He doesn’t detail how the fight began at
Big Mound, only that Sibley pursued them to the Mníšoše. The warriors held the
attention of the soldiers, which allowed the Lakȟóta two days to cross the
river. The ĺsaŋyathi under ĺŋkpaduta and Wakhéye Ská (White Lodge) broke off
and turned north.

ĺŋkpaduta pictured here. After the Little Bighorn fight he went into exile in Canada and died there in 1881.

After the escape at Apple
Creek, ĺŋkpaduta and Wakhéye Ská moved their camps in an arc, first northerly,
then back east and south, and kept a respectable distance between the Isáŋyathi
and Sibley’s retreat. Then the Isáŋyathi journeyed to Pa ÍpuzA Napé Wakpána to make camp and hunt with the Iháŋktȟuŋwaŋna the following month. Sully found the camp
and slaughtered as many as 200 and took over 150 captives, mostly women and
children in both cases.

After the Dakȟóta split from
the Lakȟóta, “we went to cross the river. We were not afraid,” explained Tačháŋȟpi
Lúta, “We did not lose any of our people when we crossed.”[v] He
admitted to being a part of the party who waited the night through and then
attacked and killed two soldiers.

Here's a reconstruction of the Apple Creek conflict. The map comes from a survey of the Missouri River in the 1890s.

The late Delma Helman, a Huŋkphápȟa
elder from Standing Rock, recalled the story of the Mníšoše crossing, “The
soldiers chased us into the river. We cut reeds to breathe underwater and held
onto stones to keep submerged until nightfall.” After the vesper of sunset, they
emerged from the river safely onto Burnt Boat Island (later called Sibley Island).[vi]

The Sibley campaign was the
Huŋkphápȟa’s first encounter with U.S. soldiers, Sully’s assault at Killdeer
was the second. Sitting Bull’s own pictographic record testifies to his own
portrayal, not as a warrior but as a medicine man, counting coup and stealing a
mule from Sibley’s wagon train in July, 1863.[vii]

Sitting Bull pictographed his part in the Big Mound conflict in which he stole a mule from Sully and counted coup on one of the men.

Historian Robert Utley
estimates that there were perhaps as many as 1400 lodges at Taȟčá Wakútepi. It
was a sizable village consisting of Huŋkphápȟa, Sihásapa, Mnikȟówožu,
Itázipčho, Iháŋktȟuŋwaŋna, and Isáŋyathi. Utley paints the Lakȟóta and Dakȟóta
in overconfident tones: “they did not order the lodges packed,” explains Utley,
“nor did they order the village moved, “The women, children, and old men, in
fact, gathered on a high hill to watch.”[viii]

But the camp was moved. At
least the Lakȟótas’ was, from the west side of Taȟčá Wakútepi to the southeast
side, below Medicine Hole the day before Sully’s arrival,[ix] in
a movement which placed a fresh water creek between them and the approaching
soldiers. The Lakȟóta had learned the previous summer that water slowed or
stopped the soldiers’ advance.

Ernie LaPointe, Tȟatȟáŋka
ĺyotake’s (Sitting Bull’s) direct lineal descendant, a great-grandson of the
Huŋkphápȟa leader, offers this retrospective, “If it had been possible, Tȟatȟáŋka
ĺyotake might have accepted peace terms that simply allowed his people and him
to continue to live their traditional lifestyle.” As it was, Sully’s assault
left one hundred Lakȟóta dead,[x]
though Sully’s reports have the count closer to 150.

A map of the Killdeer conflict as it unfolded, courtesy of the State Historical Society of North Dakota.

The Lakȟóta camp had moved
in a position which faced Sully’s left flank; ĺŋkpaduta’s camp faced Sully’s
right. A hunting party, possibly a war party though all the men were as much
prepared to fight as to hunt, skirmished with Sully’s Winnebago scouts earlier
that day. Sully’s command, five miles away, approached Taȟčá Wakútepi for a
showdown.

When the soldiers got
closer, a lone Lakȟóta warrior, Šúŋka Waŋžíla (Lone Dog), decided to test the
fighting resolve of the soldiers and boldly rode his horse within range of
fire. The soldiers fired three times at him. Tȟatȟáŋka Ská (White Bull) believed that Šúŋka Waŋžíla lived a
wakȟáŋ life, charmed some would say in English. Šúŋka Waŋžíla, explained Tȟatȟáŋka Ská, “…was with a ghost and it was
hard to shoot him.”[xi]

A map of the 1864 Sully campaign in Dakota Territory.

Lt. Col. John Pattee, under
Sully’s command that day, said of Šúŋka Waŋžíla riding, waving, and whooping at
the soldiers, that an aide from Sully approached him, “The General sends his
compliments and wishes you to kill that Indian for God’s sake.” Pattee ordered
three sharpshooters to bring down Šúŋka Waŋžíla. One shot, according to Pattee,
sent Šúŋka Waŋžíla from his horse, though Sully claimed the warrior fell from
his horse.[xii]

According to Šúŋka Waŋžíla’s
own pictographic record, he was riding, armed with bow and arrows, carrying
black shields as much for practical protection as for spiritual protection, and
received one wound.[xiii]

The fighting continued north
for the five miles it took for Sully’s command to reach the encampments. For
those five miles, the Lakȟóta held the soldiers’ attention, at times in brutal
hand to hand combat. The Lakȟóta managed to outflank Sully’s men, which
threatened the wagons and horses, so Sully ordered artillery to open fire. When
the fight approached the encampments, the women hastened to break and flee.
Frances “Fanny” Kelly, a captive of the Lakȟóta said that as soon as soldiers
were sighted, the women withdrew into the hills, woods, and ravines, around
Taȟčá Wakútepi, for protection[xiv].

Taȟčá Wakútepi (Killdeer Mountain), a view from the south looking north.

On the Iháŋktȟuŋwaŋna and Isáŋyathi
side of the conflict, the fight for the Dakȟóta became a stubborn retreat back
to the encampments at the base of Taȟčá Wakútepi. There the soldiers broke into
heavy fire into the Dakȟóta protectors until they finally broke. White Bull
told Stanley Vestal (Walter Campbell) that the Iháŋktȟuŋwaŋna and Isáŋyathi
were as strangers to the Lakȟóta, and that they lost thirty when their line of
defense broke.[xv]

In a dialog with Mr. Timothy
Hunts In Winter, there was a woman, an ancestor of his, Ohítika Wiŋ (Brave
Woman) who fought at Killdeer. “She was only 14 on the day of the Killdeer fight
but she fought along side her até (father). Her até was killed that day in
battle,” explained Hunts In Winter, “she was named Ohítika Wiŋ because she was
a woman warrior.”[xvi]

The Lakȟóta and Dakȟóta encampment lay on the other side of this coulee (the treeline in the middle ground). The Lakȟóta camp moved here from the southwest side of the plateau.

From the Lakȟóta camp there
came a singer escorting a man known as The-Man-Who-Never-Walked, a cripple
since birth. His limbs were twisted and shrunken and in all his forty winters,
he had never once hunted nor fought. When the soldiers came to the camp,
The-Man-Who-Never-Walked knew that this was his one chance to fight. He was
loaded onto a travois and a creamy white horse pulled the drag. The singer led
him to where Tȟatȟáŋka ĺyotake was watching the fight.

When the singer finished his
song, he called out, “This man has been a cripple all his life. He has never
gone to war. Now he asks to be put into this fight.” Tȟatȟáŋka ĺyotake replied,
“That is perfectly all right. Let him die in battle if he wants to.” White Bull
later said of Tȟatȟáŋka ĺyotake, “Sitting Bull’s heart was full that day. He
was proud of his nation. Even the helpless were eager to do battle in defense
of their people.”[xvii]
The horse was whipped and drove The-Man-Who-Never-Walked straight into a line
of soldiers, who shot the horse then him. They called him Čhaŋte Matȟó (Bear’s
Heart) after that because of his great courage.

A closer look at the south-facing slope of Taȟčá Wakútepi, below Medicine Hole. They would have ascended the plateau going around the landmark and over.

Íŋkpaduta engaged in a
counter-attack on Sully’s right flank to stall his approach and lost
twenty-seven warriors in hand to hand fighting. The Isáŋyathi broke just as
Sully’s artillery began to fire upon the encampment.

Women and children who
hadn’t retreated into the hills and ravines west of Taȟčá Wakútepi were
suddenly in the fight. The women gathered what they could before abandoning
camp, and young boys shepherded the horses to safety. “Children cried, the dogs
were under everybody’s feet, mules balked, and pack horses took fright at the
shell-fire or snorted at the drifting smoke behind them,” according to Frances
Kelly.[xviii]

The Badlands west of Taȟčá Wakútepi. Thousands of places to hide and rendezvous on top of generations of intimate familiarity with the land helped the Lakȟóta remain elusive.

The Lakȟóta and Dakȟóta
turned west into the Badlands, and there evaded capture.

The smoke cleared and over a
hundred Lakȟóta and Dakȟóta lay dead. Sully ordered troops to destroy
everything left behind. Lodges, blankets, and food were burned. Dogs were shot.
Children inadvertently left behind in the confusion were chased down by the
Winnebago scouts and killed.

________________________

GLOSSARY:

Čhaŋte
Matȟó: Bear’s Heart (The-Man-Who-Never-Walked), a forty-year-old disabled Lakȟóta
man who fought his first and last fight at Taȟčá
Wakútepi

Huŋkphápȟa: also known as “Hunkpapa,” one of the seven Thítȟuŋwaŋ
tribes

Iháŋktȟuŋwaŋna:
Little End Village (Yanktonai), one of the seven tribes that make up the Očhéthi Šakówiŋ

ĺŋkpaduta: Scarlet Point, war chief of the Waȟpékhute band of the
Isáŋyathi

Isáŋyathi: the general name of the four eastern tribes
(Sisíthuŋwaŋ, Waȟpéthuŋwaŋ, Waȟpékhute, and Bdewákhaŋthuŋwaŋ), their language
is Dakȟóta

Matȟó
Watȟákpe: Charging Bear (John Grass), a war chief of the Sihásapa, one of the seven Thítȟuŋwaŋ tribes

Mníšoše: Water-Astir (Missouri River)

Očhéthi Šakówiŋ: Seven Council Fires (The Great Sioux Nation), the
confederation is made up of the Thítȟuŋwaŋ, Iháŋktȟuŋwaŋna, Iháŋktȟuŋwaŋ,
Sisíthuŋwaŋ, Waȟpéthuŋwaŋ, Waȟpékhute, and Bdewákhaŋthuŋwaŋ

Ohítika Wiŋ: Brave Woman, she fought at Killdeer Mountain
alongside her father when she was fourteen years old

Pa ÍpuzA Napé Wakpána: Dry Bone Hill Creek (Whitestone Hill Creek)

Phizí: Gall, a war chief of the Huŋkphápȟa (Hunkpapa), one of the
seven Thítȟuŋwaŋ tribes

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

A view of Kitson through a tear in a tipi on display in the North Dakota Heritage Center. Kitson mended the tear using traditional methods.

Repairing A Lodge

Standing Rock Woman Fixes
Tipi

By Dakota Wind

BISMARCK, N.D. – The North Dakota Heritage Center has opened two of its galleries this
spring to thousands of visitors from locals to visitors from overseas. The
galleries hum and echo with the conversation of hundreds of visitors in an
hour. Students in summer school ask questions and look at exhibits with quiet
determination if they’re working on an on-site activity.

The Early Peoples gallery
features a strong language component in its exhibit design. Part of this design
are two displays that receive the most attention: the cyclorama of Yellow Earth
Village, which is a huge panoramic painting of a what is known by locals as
“Double Ditch,” and a full-size genuine brain-tanned bison hide thipȟéstola (a
thípi, or tipi). Visitors, especially young ones want to enter the lodge as
soon as they lay eyes upon it.

The thípi was made in 1990
for the State Historical Society of North Dakota (SHSND) by Larry Belitz, an
enrolled member of the Oglála Lakȟóta on the Pine Ridge Sioux Indian
Reservation in South Dakota. The SHSND at one time shone big lamps within the
lodge to give it a beautiful glow, but the glow dried it out according to Mr. Mark
Halverson, Curator of Collections and Research, “The lamps served only to dry
the hide,” which has made it as brittle as paper.

A view of the lodge looking up from the inside.

Because of its brittle
condition, and its popularity with the crowd, the thípi began to tear in a few
places. Despite closing the thípi off to visitors and displaying signage
discouraging visitors to not touch the display, the lodge developed a tear
along a seam, possibly due to young visitors who can’t read, or by foreign
visitors unable to read English, or by belligerent excited visitors who can’t
keep their paws off the lodge. In any event, it took only one tear.

Repair work on the tear was
inevitable. The tear grew daily before it could be mended and it drew attention like bears to honey. Each swipe tore at the seam,
until a gaping hole developed. It was awful to see.

Enter: D. Joyce Kitson.

Kitson prepares a patch and welts using brain-tanned bison hide, and bison sinew.

Kitson is an enrolled member
of the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe. Her traditional Lakȟóta name is Pȟehíŋ Šá Wiŋ
(Red Hair Woman), a name carried by her grandmother Matilda Vaulters-Good Iron.
Kitson is a master quillworker with works at the National Museum of The
American Indian, the North Dakota Heritage Center, and various collections,
private and public, here in state and abroad. She also practices the
traditional methods of brain-tanning hides, and collecting natural earth
pigments.

Kitson is quick to acknowledge
who she learned the traditional crafts from. She learned how to tan bison hides
from her maternal uŋčí (grandmother) Alice Wears Horns-Vaulters, and uŋčí Zona
Lones Arrow. Kitson learned two quillwork methods, one using bird quills in
which the feather shaft has been stripped, and the other method involving
porcupine quills. Quillwork, Kitson learned from Naomi Black Hawk, Mary Elk,
and Alice Blue Legs-New Holy.

Kitson offers formal classes
through Sitting Bull College about tanning and smoking hides. She also works
through the North Dakota Council on The Arts too, and apprentices two to three
learners each year. Her apprentices not only learn how to quill and/or tan, but
she requires them to create personal objects for themselves such as awl and quill
cases.

Kitson carefully places the patch and welt. The welt will help to preserve the seam where she joins the patch.

“I’m a lifelong learner, as
much as I’m a teacher,” says Kitson. She recalled her first teaching experience
when she was just sixteen years old at the Fargo-Moorhead Native American
Center. Kitson had forty students who she taught the tanning tradition. She is
also a mother of five, and taught her children as well.

I don’t press her for
details but Kitson acknowledges that she lived a hard life, and enthusiastically
professes her faith in God. She freely goes back and forth between reverently calling
God “God” and the Lakȟóta address of “Wakȟáŋ Tȟáŋka." She sees both as one and
the same.

Her faith permeates her
crafts. “The work shouldn’t be laborious,” she says between drawing sinew
through her mouth and fingers, “It should be an honor to work on these hides.” According
to Kitson it takes six to eight hours to tan a hide depending upon how big the
hide is and whether or not she has assistance.

After prepared the sinew and placing the welt and patch, Kitson begins a whip stitch.

Kitson lives a clean life, “To
honor my ancestors, to honor the Authority,” she says. She believes whole-heartedly
that if one honors one’s ancestors and the Creator that one, in turn, will be
honored and blessed. Right now, Kitson shares, we must honor our youth.

As Kitson works on the thipȟéstola
I ask her if she has any stories, “lore” one might say, associated with it. She
believes that Wakȟáŋ Tȟáŋka sends her dreams and visions, sometimes regarding
people she should pray for, sometimes a pattern to create with quillwork.

Then Kitson revisited my thipȟéstola
query and said, “A thípi is a spiritual covering. It is spiritual
protection.” She then shared that once she was walking up Mathó Pahá (Bear Butte), the sky serving as
lodge in this story, when she was gifted with a vision about the butte as a
pregnant woman about to give birth. The trees and animals upon it signified the
birth of the Seventh Generation, and that all the life born thereafter would be
gifted with dreams.

Almost done with the patch. Upon assessment of the lodge, there will need to be two more patches, one on the back and another on the top of the entry.

In a related story about the
lodge, Kitson shared, her mother had a dream a long time ago about being within
a thipȟéstola. “The sky opened up like a book,” she said, “and water poured
down.” Her iná (mother) dashed within the lodge and attempted to close the thiyópa
(the thípi door) with a safety pin to keep the waters out. Her iná
prayed about this dream and received the revelation that the water was the Holy
Spirit, and that the people were not yet ready for the Word.

Kitson finished patching the
thipȟéstola. The hide visibly delicate in various places, the SHSND can
anticipate future repair work on it as long as the lodge is on display and
within reach of the general public’s paws.

Kitson shared one more thing
as she repaired the lodge, “I would like to create one.”